Post-Its: The Post-It Stakeout

Luna Lovegood-Longbottom was on a mission. As she pulled on a pair of rain boots, butterflies began fluttering in her stomach. Just the thought of what she was about to do made her feel guilty.

Tonight, she was going to spy on her husband.

He had been gone every night this week and when he came back to their flat, he was always freshly showered, very late, and tired. He always had some excuse as to why he was so late, the office kept him, his grandmother needed something… it was something different every night, and while Luna wasn't one to snoop, she'd found an address for a house in his trouser pocket while she was rooting through the laundry, looking for her favorite blouse.

And it wasn't just those things. The Post-It notes had stopped. Old ones hung limp, barely sticking to the surfaces they were attached to, and seeing them like that made her question everything. In their wedding vows, she had told him she'd never stop writing them and he told her he'd never stop responding to them, but they had stopped.

She knew he had taken off a few days, and she thought they were to spend time with her. They found out five months ago that she was expecting, and Neville told her all he wanted to do was stay home with her, but when his vacation was supposed to start, he told her that something had come up and that he couldn't take his vacation until later. When she had said something about it to Hermione, she told Luna that Neville hadn't showed up at the Ministry all week.

This all added up to one thing in Luna's mind…

Her husband was having an affair.

Luna pulled on the trench coat she'd bought today from a store in Muggle London. She always wanted a trench coat; they always looked like fun to her. She never imagined that the only reason she'd have to buy one was to sneak around and spy on her husband. All her friends had assured her that Neville would never do that to her, but with her hormones out of control from the pregnancy and all the weird coincidences, she couldn't help but think maybe he didn't find her attractive pregnant, or maybe he had seen how strange she really was and decided to move on.

She grabbed her bag, closed her eyes, and leaned her head against the door, summoning the courage to go outside and possibly find something that would tear her apart. A tear streaked down her cheek as she pulled a hat on and stepped outside into the hallway of their building. Different things were running through her head, along with doubts. She never doubted he loved her, especially after he proposed to her in such a romantic and crazy way. He always played along when she had a new idea, he never called her crazy or loony, and his opinion was the only one she ever really cared for.

She had fallen for him after she had been injured in the Final Battle. While everyone else was sitting by his or her girlfriend or boyfriend's bedside, no one was by hers until he sat down one day and just watched her. She had been unconscious, but she could feel his presence next to her, day after day. She had woken up a week later, with him sitting at her side, holding her hand. He immediately let go, blushing like crazy. He was her professor then, she wasn't supposed have those feelings for him. Nevertheless, she did.

She'd stopped talking to him, not being able to handle her feelings. She'd had crushes before, just small ones on different people, but she'd never felt that way about anyone before. Before she left school, she had kissed him and when she pulled away, he had just stared at her. The rejection had almost killed her, but when he had taken her hand afterwards, she knew everything was going to be all right.

It was raining as she walked down the street, and as the droplets slipped over the brim of her hat and down her face in streams, her heart began to race. She was trying to think of reasons he was lying to her, but one thing kept coming to mind. No matter how hard she tried to shake it off, the thought of him having an affair plagued her.

She wrapped her arms around her slightly protruding stomach and sighed. They'd been trying for months to conceive, and every time the test came back negative, he'd just sigh and say they could just try again. Her heart broke every time that happened, because she'd always felt their bad luck was caused by her. He later confided he felt it was his fault, but after his confession, the test had finally come back positive. She wanted this baby so bad, and she knew he wanted it too. That was why she couldn't understand why he'd go off with some trollop.

She stood on the corner, her thoughts overcoming her for a moment. All the wonderful memories they shared came flooding back, and she was suddenly glad for the rain. She couldn't tell the tears from the raindrops any more.

After consulting a map this morning, she realized the address was for a house that wasn't even a kilometer from their flat building. As she turned onto the street, she realized all the houses were perfect. Even in the dark, she could tell the houses were perfectly painted with white picket fences. The yards were mowed, trimmed immaculately with little garden gnomes in the front.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and looked for the house number. The house it belonged to was at the end of the street, and it was the only purple one on the block. A light was on in the upstairs room, and she was overcome with a mixture of curiosity and fury. She carefully opened the gate and walked up the concrete walk. In the dark, she could barely make out the flowers that lined the walkway, but she was too cold and upset to think about them.

When she reached the front door, the thought of the door being locked crossed her mind. Cautiously, she reached out and turned the knob. She let out a small gasp as the door creaked open. She stepped inside, letting the hood on her overcoat fall back as she looked around the room.

It was a golden color, her favorite color, and it was furnished with beautiful wood furniture and red and gold cushions. Lots and lots of cushions. There was a fire roaring in the hearth, the shadows were dancing across the shiny wooden floor. She smiled slightly, remembering a particularly happy portion of her childhood as she ran her fingers along the wooden table in the hallway, before finding the stairs. She climbed them carefully, skipping every third step like she used to when she was a child, feeling a flutter in her stomach as the baby moved.

She found herself in a long hallway, with doors on each side. At the far end, the door was cracked open ever so slightly, and a single ray of golden light spilled out onto the floor.

She crept down the hall, careful not to let her shoes make any noise on the hardwood floor. As she reached the door, she leaned closer to see if she could hear anything.

After listening for a few moments and not hearing anything, she pushed the door open. She was greeted by a loud crash, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw Neville on the floor, a ladder lying next to him. He looked startled when he saw her.


She jumped when she heard his voice, and she watched as he picked himself up off the floor. "What are you doing here?" He ran his paint-splattered hands through his already tousled hair and sighed. "I mean, how did you…?"

Luna looked around the room and realized it was supposed to be a nursery. The walls were painted light blue, and little clouds were painted along the top and bottom. Buckets of paint were strewn around the room, along with several paintbrushes. Luna turned her eyes to her husband looked him up and down. Paint was splattered all over his coveralls and flecks were in his hair. She turned towards the door, half expecting a gorgeous blonde woman to walk through, but when she felt her husband's hands slip to her shoulders. "I thought--" she mumbled, looking back at him, the confusion in her eyes growing as he gently pushed her towards the door.

"The paint fumes," he explained, closing the door behind them as they reached the hallway. "I read that paint fumes are bad for the baby." He slipped his hands to her waist, guiding her towards the stairs. "Luna, what are you doing here?"

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as he lovingly helped her down the stairs. "I thought… I mean… with everything that is going on…"

When they reached the bottom step, he gently pushed her towards the fluffy couch and helped her sit down before kneeling in front of her. "What's wrong?"

The tears began to roll down her cheeks when she saw the genuinely confused expression in his eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and squashed him to her. "I thought you were having an affair!" she cried, burying her face in his neck. "I found the address in your pocket and after all the nights you came home late or just didn't come home at all, and when you stopped writing the Post-Its, I just--" She broke down.

A blush crept into Neville's cheeks when he felt his wife's tears leak onto the collar of his shirt. "Luna, I'm so sorry," he told her, wincing as she let out a particularly gut wrenching sob. "I wanted to surprise you by fixing up the house, I never imagined you'd think…" he paused, his embarrassment causing his voice to squeak. "I'd never do that. Especially with the baby…"

Luna lifted her head and sniffed. "So you're not-" she hiccupped, more tears streaming down her cheeks, "-having an affair?" she asked, her eyes wide. She let out another loud hiccup and her eyes began to tear up again.

Neville took her hand and kissed her forehead. "Luna, when I made my wedding vows, I meant every word I said. I'd never do that." He watched her carefully, not wanting her to burst into a fit of tears again. He'd never seen her cry before, and it was freaking him out.

She smiled weakly, feeling spent all of a sudden. She leaned back into the fluffy cushions and sighed. She closed her eyes when Neville began removing the heavy boots and her damp socks from her feet. "Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Get out of that jacket," Neville ordered, standing over her. "I'll hang it up to dry."

Her eyes remained closed as he carefully pulled the coat off her. She could hear him walking back towards her, and she felt his weight next to her when he sat down. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. After kissing her temple, she asked, "Didn't we look at this house awhile ago?"

Removing one of his arms from around her, he placed a hand on her stomach and laughed softly. "Yes. I'm surprised you didn't remember. I knew this would be a great place if it was fixed up a bit. This is supposed to be your birthday gift this year, but obviously it can't be anymore. And I thought I was doing a good job of being sneaky…"

Luna opened one eye and looked up at her husband. "Why didn't you just say something? You let me think you were sneaking around behind my back. Merlin, I was scared to death when I walked up the stairs outside and it turns out you were doing this for me? And you say I do things strange…"

"I put a well in the backyard," he remarked lamely, as if it made a difference. "I thought you could go find those four horned things in it."

Luna pouted, trying to be cross with him. "The Four Horned Schoongles are only found in Norway," she mumbled, casting him a dark look.

Neville's face dropped. "You aren't angry with me, are you?"

"Yes," she told him without reservation.

Neville sighed. One of her most endearing qualities was her bluntness, but sometimes it just got on his nerves. He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away. As she did, he noticed the smile cross her face. "You're impossible," he muttered, standing up. "Let me show you something."

Luna stood; ignoring the hand he had extended to help her. She put a hand on her stomach as they climbed the stairs, but instead of walking forward, facing his back, she walked up them backwards. When they reached the landing, he pushed the door on the left side open and held it open for her. "The piece de resistance," he whispered in her ear, kissing just below it. She shivered involuntarily, and he flipped on the light. "Welcome to your new bedroom," he told her, his hand finding it's way to the small of her back.

Luna stepped in, gasping softly. Her bare feet crossed the hardwood floor silently, and after seeing all the furniture, she threw herself onto the bed and giggled. "I love it!" she exclaimed, sitting back up and looking at him.

He walked to the edge of the bed and pulled the covers down. "Here." She watched him curiously as he reached over and helped her underneath the covers. "I want to finish up the nursery."

"No," she told him sternly, moving over and patting the now empty space next to her. "I'm not going to sleep tonight without you in bed with me."

Neville smiled wearily at her. "Are you still upset with me?"

Luna patted the space next to her, and once he settled in, she threw her arm across his chest and smiled into his shoulder. She fell asleep minutes later, listening to the soft snores of her husband.


Luna snuggled into her pillow. She wasn't quite sure where she was, but she was sure she really had to pee. She opened one eye and then the other, surprised to find herself in a huge room and not the cramped bedroom in her flat. Then last night's events came flooding back and she smiled.

She slid off the bed and waddled towards the back of the room. She was positive there would be a bathroom somewhere. She turned the first doorknob and found it to be a closet, but the second one was the bathroom.

She flipped on the light, and when she turned to look around, she found the mirror covered in a flurry of blue Post-It notes. There was a single pink one in the centre, and after peeling it off, she smiled.

I wrote twenty notes for every day I didn't write you one last week.

She peeled each and every note off the mirror, reading them all even though she already knew what each one said.

I love you.